We look for love where they are not
when I expect I get my cut
I run into head down
and I not but call myself a clown
then my rock song says; dont you
worry your pretty little mind, your
little smile makes love go round,
and your voice gives her cold
when it sounds....
Another suffers for you, and you
suffer for another,
and both party loves assunder.
let them be happy
let them walk freely,
but lastly, my head is still down,
and her face is still brown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem